Rise of The Frozen Dragons
by A fool who thinks they're wise
Summary: Hijack Frozen AU. Complete with first times in forever, slammed doors, and a lot of people just, letting it go.


Hey, all!  
So I've seen a lot of the frozen Hijack AU on tumblr, and I figured  
I would try my hand at it. I did change some details in the storyline and  
added some too, so its not exactly like Frozen, but it's still similar.  
I hope you enjoy it!  
**Disclaimer: I do not own How To Train Your Dragon, Rise Of The Guardians, or Frozen,  
HTTYD+ROTG and all their characters belong to Dreamworks, and Frozen and all its characters belongs to Disney.**

* * *

When in disgrace with Fortune and men's eyes,  
I all alone beweep my outcast state,  
And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries,  
And I look upon myself and curse my fate,  
Wishing me like to one more rich in hope,  
Featur'd like him, like him with friends possess'd,  
Desiring this man's art, and that man's scope,  
With what I most enjoy contented least;

Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising,  
Haply I think on thee, and then my state  
Like to the lark at break of day arising  
From sullen earth, sings hymns at heaven's gate,  
For thy sweet love rememb'red such wealth brings,  
That then I scorn to change my state with kings.

-Shakespeare, Sonnet XXIX

* * *

It only took a single wrong step.  
The ice had been thinner there, a contrast to the thick, relatively stable ice where the other ice cutters had been standing. Swarming, he'd thought, ignoring their concerned calls as he hurried by, mind locked in the numb haze it had been in since the light in her eyes left for somewhere he couldn't reach. The cold air savaged his skin, passing right through his coat and bones, as frost dusted his eyelashes. The wind around him had seemed to howl in grief he couldn't bring himself to feel. He only knew the cold, ripping, tearing, and rendering his heart to pieces. Well whatever was left of the mangled mess in his chest, more than half of it torn out when death had come and kissed her eyes, pulling her into the eternal slumber.

He recalled the feeling of her soft brown hair beneath his fingertips as he brushed it back from her pale, sweaty face, her breath coming out in short gasps of air as though something he couldn't see was punching her repeatedly. Dimly, he was aware of the hushed hiccupping cry of a newborn and the midwife's soft murmurs beyond the door.

But he couldn't bring himself to look away from his wife's brilliant green eyes, staring into him, as she grasped his hand with the last of her strength and begged him to look after that traitorous child. And he hated, venomously, that infuriating mass of flesh for a moment, before she gave another weak squeeze with her hand and his attention focused solely on her once more.

"Have to…name." She had murmured desperately, and as he wandered further onto the ice flow he almost thought he could hear her voice breathing in his ear.

"Hush." He had told her, just as desperate. "You have to save your strength—"

Another hiccupping cry had broken through the door, bringing a smile to her face.  
"Hiccup." She had whispered, before repeating it with more strength. "Hiccup. That's his name…that's…what we'll call him."

"Anything you want Val." He had told her, eyes burning as her image grew blurry for a moment before he blinked her back into focus. He had wished he could blink her back into health, wished this was all a bad dream. _Oh, Odin, __**please**_.

She had sent him another smile; this one far weaker than the last and it made him want to be sick. He had swallowed hard and she had locked his eyes with her own, struggling to keep them lucid for the one moment longer that she needed.

"Take care of him Stoick." She had implored him, gripping his hand tightly as though trying to bind him to the promise with the ever-weakening power in her fingertips.  
"Val—" He had begun, the monumental effort it took to speak around the lump in his throat wasted as her words cut through his.

"I love you." The words had only just managed to fall off her pale lips before Death finally reached up and tugged her away from his arms, giving him no time to breathe the words back to her.

When he had finally stumbled out the door to where the midwife stood, all the compassion and care from his heart stolen along with his wife, to see her rocking the tiny bundle of blankets in her arms, his face must have given it all away.

"Oh sir—"  
"Let me see him." He had demanded, voice not trembling in the slightest.  
The midwife had hesitated, drawing the bundle closer into her arms. "Sir, I'm not sure—

He had stormed forward, snatching the bundle from her arms, and glaring into its eyes.

"Sir, please be careful—"

Deep, blue eyes that were nothing like Valhallarama's hauntingly beautiful green ones. His fingers had tightened painfully around the child, sending it into another spasm of wails.  
"Sir!"

The midwife had reached forward and snatched the bundle from his arms, wrapping her own around it protectively.  
"Why are its eyes like that?" He had growled, not caring how it sounded.

Her face had screwed up into a mess of anger and confusion, cuddling the bundle tighter to her breast. "All babes are born with the same eyes, sir. Now, I think it would be best if—"

Valhallarama was nothing like the other women he knew. The very idea that he had traded away something so precious, so rare, so beloved, for this adequate, _common _creature, had filled his mind with roaring white noise. He had lurched towards the two of them, fingers outstretched in a bruising grip—_"Sir!"_

—but the binding ties of Valhallarama's last wish pulled him back. He had stumbled to a halt and then away from them and out the door, feeling as though the very walls were closing in around him, stealing the breath from his lungs.

And now, he stumbled across the ice flow, ignoring the calls for him to turn back, as he set his foot down and took that single wrong step.

The ice cracked beneath his feet with a thunderous roar, spider web fractures spreading out before the ground beneath him gave way, plunging him into glacial waters below.

* * *

Several hours later, back in the cottage that Stoick, Chief Overseer of the ice cutters, had stormed away from, the royal midwife clutched a sniffling child. Listening on grimly as two forlorn men told her what had become of their boss. How they had tried to save him, had tried to pull him back to the surface, but he shoved their hands and warnings away, choosing to sink down into the frigid waters below. After they were finished, she nodded, thanked them for their efforts and sent them on their way with a cup of tea.

* * *

A few days later, Stoick and Valhallarama had been buried, sent off to sea covered in flames and flowers. The royal midwife stayed for the funeral, though the tears that fell from her shining eyes were more for the tiny baby in her arms, that he should already have to witness a funeral in the first few days of his life.

And then she gathered her belongings, and a few of theirs, keepsakes for the boy when he was old enough to appreciate their value, and wrapped her cloak around her shoulders and rode off in her sled. Keeping the baby clutched tightly to her chest, wrapped in as many layers as she could manage, she made her way back towards Arendelle's royal palace.

* * *

Three-year-old Jack was drawn towards the front hall by his mother's sobs, a sound that he had never heard before. He poked his head around the corner of the soft green wallpaper, blue eyes taking in the scene before him in confusion.

Claire, the nice lady who had helped his mom and him, stood before the royal couple, a bundle of blankets in her arms. His father had his arms wrapped around his mother, keeping her upright as she sobbed into his shoulders, fingers shaking as she clutched the material of his uniform.

Claire shifted from side to side, rocking the bundle gently as she averted her eyes from his mother's pain. She waited until her sobs had calmed down somewhat before clearing her throat and breaking the heavy silence.

"Your majesty, if this is too much for you, I can take him to the local orphanage—"

He didn't think he'd ever seen his mother move so fast.

She drew herself up from his father's arms, darting forward and plucking the bundle from Claire's hands before drawing it into her chest tenderly.

"No." She declared, gazing down at the blankets with a love that made Jack's chest burn with jealousy. "This is my best friend's child. I cannot let him—" She broke off, tears gathering once more within her eyes, but she swallowed them down, along with the lump in her throat. "He will stay here with us, as Prince of Arendelle."

Jack's heart thumped loudly in his chest. _He_ was Prince of Arendelle.

He flew down the halls towards his mother, startling all three of the adults standing there.  
"Mama!" He cried, brining his tiny fist to clutch at the bottom of her silk gown.  
"Jack." She said, red-rimmed eyes growing wide with surprise. "What's wrong sweetheart?"

He sniffled. "Pwease don't get wid ov me!"

"Why would—what are you talking about Jack?" His father demanded, confusion sweeping into his tone.

He buried his head into his mother's gown. "You said he's gonna be Prince ov Awendelle." He looked up at them accusingly. "I'm Pwince ov Awendelle!"

His mother and father blinked down at him for a moment before laughing.  
"Oh Jack, honey." His mother smiled. "Of course you are, and you always will be, but there can be _two _Princes of Arendelle."

He pulled his face from her gown and blinked. "Weally?"

His father nodded, smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Really."  
His mother shifted the bundle in her arms and crouched down to Jack's level. "Do you want to see him?"

Jack hesitated for a moment before moving forward cautiously and getting a better look. A tiny, pale face with big eyes stared back at him, watching him just as cautiously and curiously. Jack stared for a solid minute before the tiny bundle burst into hiccupping-laughter, waving his tiny hands around and reaching for Jack.

"I think he likes you." Jack's mother told him, hiding the smile that threatened to break out over her face when his head shot up, mouth spread wide in a beaming grin. He glanced back down at another gurgle from the baby, letting the tiny creature grasp his pinky with his tiny hands.

"His name is Hiccup," His mother told him gently, "He's going to be living here from now on."

Jack glanced up at his mother hopefully. "Is he my bwother?"

His mother's face twisted into something desperately sad for a moment before she straightened it out again as she shook her head. "No, honey, he's…he's mama's best friend's son. But you have to treat him like your brother, all right? You have to look after him like he's your brother, do you understand?"

Jack nodded, still focused on the gentle grip that Hiccup had on his pinky, the grin on his face only growing wider when Hiccup gave another happy gurgle.

He glanced up at his parents, eyes sparkling with excitement and hope.

"Can he sleep in my room tonight?"

* * *

"Jack! Wake up, wake up, wake up!"  
The eight-year-old crown prince of Arendelle grumbled under his breath and snuggled deeper into his blanket. "Hiccup, go back to sleep."

A sigh sounded from above him and he felt a five-year-old Hiccup roll over, his gangly elbows digging into his back.  
"I just can't! The _sky's_ awake, so _I'm_ awake, so we _have _to play!"

Jack gave another grumble, removing his arm from the blanket to knock Hiccup off of him and onto the floor. "Go play by yourself!"

He had a few moments of bliss, before he heard a soft gasp from side of his bed and Hiccup was clambering over him again. And when he spoke he could hear the cheeky grin plastered on his face in his tone.

"Do you wanna build a _snow_man?"

* * *

_"Do the magic, do the magic!"_

Laughing and running in the banquet hall, snow falling all around them, frost dancing from Jack's fingertips into the air. Slippery ice beneath their feet as they jumped and slid down snow banks, smiles etched onto their faces. Giggles erupted from Hiccup's tiny figure as they built snowmen, and snow-dragons, at the young Prince's insistence, of course.

They'd done this countless time before, snuck out of their rooms to laugh and play in the snow beneath Jack's parents' noses, to revel in Jack's strange powers, and each time without incident; nothing to suggest that anything could possibly go wrong this time.

But one wrong step is all it takes.

He propelled Hiccup higher and higher into the air with his snow, the two of them both laughing, before it suddenly clicked in Jack's mind that perhaps Hiccup was a little bit _too_ high.

Fate chose this moment to tug his feet out from underneath him, literally, as he slipped on the ice and fell, Hiccup falling with him. Panic rose sharply within him, clawing at his heart and stealing the air from his lungs.

"Hiccup!" He called out, sending a bolt of ice towards him, trying to create something for him to land on—  
And instead hit Hiccup.

The smaller boy let out a small cry before plummeting to the ground.

"Hiccup!"

Jack lunched towards him, heart in mouth, barely managing to catch him before he cracked his head against the ice below. He cradled the boy in his arms, sharp gasp of fear torn from his throat as a strip of Hiccup's auburn hair turned as white as the snow around them. He shook the boy desperately; panic thrumming through his veins as he tried to wake him.

"Hiccup, Hiccup it's ok I've got you. Hiccup!"

Tears began to gather in his eyes, as the boy remained still, almost frozen, in his arms.

_"Mama! Papa!"_

* * *

Jack watched anxiously as the fluttering, feathered, green, gold, purple _and blue_ fairy altered the memories within Hiccup's mind. "He won't remember that I have powers?"

His father laid his hand upon his arm. "It's for the best, Jack."  
The fairy woman gave him a soft smile and a wink. "Don't worry, I'll leave the fun you too had."

"Jack." The tall, white bearded man behind the fairy captured his attention. Jack looked up at him cautiously, pressing back into his father slightly as the hulking man moved towards him.  
"Listen carefully," The man told him, his blue eyes echoing a seriousness that Jack thought looked slightly out of place in his jolly face, "You must learn to control your powers. They beautiful, but dangerous, and if you not control them, fear will—"

"I'm sure he can learn to control them." Jack father cut in, pulling his son back from North, the leader of the Guardians, the spirits that resided deep within Arendelle's forest.

North nodded at the King before focusing his attention back on Jack.

"You must find your center, Prince Jack." He told him, "Find your—"

"And he will." The King cut in again, smoothly, but this time his tone commanded regal authority. "Until then, we'll close the gates to the palace, reduce the staff, and limit his contact with others, including Hiccup; is that suitable?"

The nice fairy lady looked like she might protest, but with a look from North she fell silent and drew back. "Whatever you think necessary, my King."

Jack felt his heart cry out painfully at the thought of not seeing Hiccup. Who was going to be there for the small boy to run to whenever he hurt himself? He was always falling over, his awkward limbs not quite sure where they were supposed to go, or how they were supposed to move. Jack had had to wipe away tears shed over scraped knees and elbows on more than one occasion.

And what if someone else hurt him? Like his mother had, when she told Hiccup that his eyes, now a beautiful, haunting green, were just like his mother's, before bursting into tears and fleeing to the solitary of her bedroom. Leaving Hiccup crying softly in the hall outside her room, only looking up when Jack tangled their fingers together. And only then to ask if Jack thought his glimmering, impossibly beautiful eyes, were ugly.

He glanced down at Hiccup, now a small bundle in his mother's arm, hand reaching for him, only for his mother to pull Hiccup out of reach.

"It's probably best you don't touch him right now." She explained, but fear tinged her calm as she cradled the small boy to her chest. Hurt and guilt dug their sharp talons into Jack's heart, searing his chest with their terrible heat, and how he wished they were hot enough to melt the frozen curse within him, but he simply swallowed and nodded.  
She was probably right.

* * *

Over the years, Jack measured the time that passed by the number of times Hiccup came to knock on his door, and intensity of the power growing uncontrollably beneath his skin.

_"Conceal it. Don't feel it." _His father told him firmly one night, slipping gloves onto his small hands. A way of counterattacking the ice that exploded from his fingertips with a single touch. Hiccup knocked on his door the next day, and Jack repeated the words under his breath like a mantra until he heard his feet shuffle desolately away. Then he covered his face with his hands and tried to hold back the tears welling up once again in his eyes.

* * *

Hiccup measured the time that passed by the number of times he knocked on Jack's door, and when he first started talking to the ornate, intricately detailed pictures hanging on the walls, loneliness eating away at both his sanity and his heart.

Jack's parents were always busy, with rarely a moment to spare, and Hiccup didn't want to bother them anymore than he already had.

So he tried his best to keep himself busy, working with his hands in his room, taking apart and rebuilding his toys. Feeling the weight of the materials in his palm before slotting them back into place, a tiny thrill shooting through him when they all slide back together perfectly.

It helped take the edge off, but never seemed to completely eradicate, the loneliness. Especially since every now and then he caught himself turning around, Jack's name half-formed on his lips, beaming with pride as he turned to show an empty room his handiwork.

* * *

And as time passed for the both of them, the two grew up. Hiccup short, thin, lanky, but still all awkward angles, and slender bones. And Jack fit, tall, nicely fleshed out, and full of regality and grace that almost no one got a chance to see.

Rumors spread throughout the castle and the town that their crown prince was sickly, so sickly that not even his childhood friend, their Prince Hiccup, could see him. The King and Queen squashed those rumors with a brief, but very public visit to the town, the two children on either side of them, so that everyone could see the fighting fit shape their Crown Prince was in.

Jack spent the whole time smiling politely at the townsfolk, ignoring Hiccup's gaze carefully, Not enough to inspire even more suspicion into the hearts of their people, but enough that Hiccup got the message and stopped looking.

He stopped knocking on Jack's door after that too.

Jack filled up the sudden silence left by the absence of those faint knocks by repeating his father's words, over and over again.

_"Conceal it. Don't feel it."_

* * *

It was a routine voyage to one of the neighbouring Kingdoms, another promising, and badly needed, trade partner that had demanded a meeting in person with the King and Queen before negotiations could begin.

Hiccup sent them off with a hug, arms wrapped tightly around them as though that would be enough to ensure their safe return.

Jack stood before them, his body stiff, reserved, except for his face, which radiated fear and worry. "Do you have to go?"  
The King and Queen sent him reassuring smiles.

"Jack, honey, we'll be home before you know it." The Queen insisted.  
"You'll be fine." The King reassured him.

* * *

No one else in the Kingdom worried, because no one expected the sea to work itself into a rage, thunderclouds rumbling overhead as lightning forked through the sky, and pull the Royal ship deep down beneath the frothing waters into the darkness.

Jack and Hiccup were passing each other on the stairs, each one avoiding the others eyes, when the messenger burst into the grand hall, drenched by the unexpected summer downpour and dripping onto the carpet below. The two princes froze on the stairs, looking down at him as dread welled up within them.

Face deathly pale, the messenger forced the words past his stuttering lips, words that crashed around Hiccup's ears and sent him crumpling towards the ground; words that had Jack fleeing the front hall for his room, leaving an icy blast of air in his wake.

* * *

"Prince Hiccup." The councilor intoned, nose turned up slightly as the grieving prince entered the room. His snobbish voice set Hiccup's already frayed nerves on edge, and he ground his teeth together, resisting the urge to wrap his black cloak further around himself.  
"Councillor Mathews," He replied evenly, "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Councillor Mathews snorted softly and muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like: "It's no pleasure of mine" before gathering the few tidbits of professionalism that he owned. "I wish to discuss the future of Arendelle with its imminent new regent, _Crown_ Prince Jack Frost?"

Hiccup raised his eyebrow. Did the guy seriously think that calling Jack the _Crown _Prince was going to hurt his feelings? He'd known since he was four that the Prince ruling this country in the end would be the eldest, the one that had been _born_ into their family.

"Crown Prince Jack Frost is still grieving the loss of the King and Queen." Hiccup replied evenly. _We all are_, he thought viciously.

Councilor Mathews gave a noise of frustration. "That doesn't change the fact that we still have a kingdom to run."  
_Really? The thought never occurred to me. _Hiccup rolled his eyes.

"I'm sure as soon as the _Crown_ Prince recovers from _burying his parents_, he'll be ready to focus on running the kingdom." Hiccup told the Councilor, struggling to keep his tone even.

"If we don't secure this trade agreement with the Berserker Kingdom than he won't _have_ a kingdom to run." Councilor Mathews snarled.

Hiccup sighed, almost biting his tongue to keep the words broiling within him from falling from his lips. "What are their main fears regarding the trade agreement?"

"Apparently they fear trade with a Kingdom whose _next ruler_ has scarcely been seen in _public_ for the _last ten years_." Councilor Mathews pinched the bridge of his nose, as though trying to stave off a headache. "They don't want to trade with a kingdom that has a sickly ruler; according to them that's how corruption and disorder runs rampant, when there's not a strong enough ruler to keep his subjects in check."

"Jack—the Crown Prince is not sickly." Hiccup replied indignantly.  
"A statement rather hard to prove seeing as he never goes out in public." Councillor Mathews snapped back.

Hiccup ran a hand through his hair. This was bad. Ok well, that was an understatement. Jack had refused almost everyone who went to his door, only opening it up for Gobber whenever he went to drop off his meals and pick up his plates. The chance of him leaving to take care of some trade agreement, no matter how badly they needed it, when he was in the middle of his grieving was as likely as Hiccup suddenly growing a pair of wings and announcing his desire to become a dragon.

Hiccup's own heart lay heavy in his chest, barely gathering up the energy to beat enough to keep life pumping through his veins. But the King and Queen, though his parents in every way that mattered to him, were not related to him by blood. Making it inappropriate for him to grieve for them as much as the Crown Prince was, that was for later, in the safety and secrecy of him own room. For now, he had to slay the demons that Jack couldn't bring himself to face.

It was not that he had any real power, rather, that he was a chess piece. A pawn that could be used for the good of the kingdom without the messy ties of royal blood binding it to him and, should something go wrong, it would be far easier to wash his blood off their hands than the startlingly pure blue blood of their royal family.  
"King Oswald the Agreeable has children, doesn't he?" Hiccup asked quietly.

Councilor Mathews sent him a look equal parts confusion and frustration. "How would that help us?"  
"Doesn't he?" Hiccup pressed urgently.  
Councilor Mathews ran a hand over his face. "Yes, he does. A son named Dagur."  
Hiccup nodded, gathering every ounce of his remaining strength to force his next words past his lips. "Send them a message offering my hand in marriage to Dagur for the trade agreement."

Councilor Mathews looked like he was about to fall over. "What?"

Hiccup shrugged. "The only way to convince them that we have a strong King is to prove that we have no need of the next in line." He paused, gripping his hands tightly to still their trembling.

"My biological mother was a Princess in the Kingdom of Berk, which used to neighbor Berserker, which gives me some royal blood. So the Berserkers can't claim we're just trying to throw some measly old orphan at them." Hiccup gave another half-hearted shrug. "And you know, the fact that I'm the last surviving member of the Berkian royal family might help, just a little bit."

Councilor Mathews pursed his lips, thinking over the proposal in his mind, before nodding.

"I'll get the royal painter to paint your portrait and send it to King Oswald," He moved towards the door, brushing past Hiccup as he went. "If he agrees, we'll set the date for when you're a little older, otherwise it'll be unseemly. Let's say…eighteen, shortly after the Crown Prince is crowned."

"Sounds good to me." Hiccup heard himself saying, struggling to keep the screaming within his mind internal.

Councilor Mathews snorted.

"At least you'll finally be of some use." He muttered under his breath as he sweeped out of the room, leaving Hiccup alone and swathed in black.

The lonely Prince stared at the dark walls surrounding him, and willed himself not to break down; not to cling to this place, the only home he had ever known, non-stop for the next three years. Until Prince Dagur came to tear him away from everything he had ever known away into the wide world beyond those gates. Away from his Kingdom, away from his palace, away from his room, away from the graves of the only parents he'd ever known, and away from _Jack_.

He didn't make it to his room before he slumped down against the hallway wall, sobbing his eyes out, the added grief weighing even more heavily on his struggling heart. Gobber found him like that later, and had to blink away a few of his own rogue tears at the sight of the small prince's red eyes. He picked him up from the floor and laid him down in bed, beside his stuffed dragon Toothless, the only thing his useless hands could do for him now.

* * *

Jack leaned his head against the wall, the trails of his furious ice blasts spiralling all around him. Now that anger and sorrow had fled him, he felt…empty. As though someone had carved out a piece of him and buried it in the ground with his parents. Frost clung to his bed curtains, icicles dripping from the ornate ceiling as ice blanketed the windows. Tiny soft snowflakes danced in the air around him as he huddled further into himself, trying to fill up that gaping hole within him, and wrapping his arms tighter around himself as though that could hold him together.

A knock on the door roused his attention, and he cleared the lump in his throat so that he could speak. "Who is it?"

"Gobber, yer' highness. I've brought yer' dinner."  
Jack pulled himself up, gingerly, moving so that he wouldn't be in the way of the door. "Come in."  
The bulky manservant twisted the doorknob gingerly, cracking it open slightly and passing through the silver platter and cup like he did every night.

"Thank-you, Gobber." Jack said, reaching forward and taking them gently.  
"No problem yer' Majesty, just make sure you eat it this time." The words were spoken lightly but laced with an underlying firmness and concern that made Jack's lips twitch slightly. It was a little two late for anyone to be concerned about him.  
"How's Hiccup? Is he eating?" Jack asked, struggling to keep his own fear and worry from his tone. It was irrational, he knew, everyday Gobber gave him the same answer. Hiccup was…well he wasn't fine but…he would be, and yes he was still eating, though they never could seem to get enough meat on his bones. Boy was still the skinniest prince that Gobber had ever seen in his life—

Gobber hesitated, drawing in one sharp breath that nearly knocked all the air out of Jack's lungs.

Gobber _never_ hesitated, not when it came to Hiccup.

"What? What is it, what's wrong with him?" Jack demanded, fear and worry rising as panic pulsed within him with each heartbeat, more ice spreading out across the floor beneath his feet. "Is he ill—?"

"Calm down yer' majesty." Gobber said, waving the hand the poked through the door reassuringly. "He's fit as a fiddle, just…taking things a little harder than I thought he was. Though that one-eyed toad of a councilor probably didn't help any, I mean really? Is it too much to ask for a little human decency—?"

"What councilor?" Jack cut in sharply, anger rising up again to fill the empty void as frost crackled at the tips of his fingers.

"Councilor Mathews came up to the castle today, flapping around like some overgrown turkey and demanding ta' see you. Hiccup went down ta' greet him, and the next thing I know he's collapsed in the hall next to his door, cryin' like a babe."

"If he came to see me, then why wasn't I sent for?" Jack inquired coldly, the icicles above him beginning to grow in length.

Gobber hesitated again. "Yer Majesty, perhaps its best for you ta' just put it out of yer mind, get some sleep—"

"Gobber." Jack broke through his monologue, tone glacial. "Why wasn't I sent for?"

Gobber hesitated a moment more before sighing. "Prince Hiccup…Prince Hiccup thought it best if you weren't bothered, seeing as yer' still…grieving."

Whatever was left of Jack's frozen heart felt like it had shattered.

"Prince Hiccup is still grieving as well." He had to stop himself from shouting. "The _whole royal household_ is."  
"I know that, an' you know that," Gobber broke in, "but the Councilors are getting antsy, worried about the security o' the Kingdom. An' this isn't the first time one of them has come knockin' and Hiccup's had ta' send 'em packing."  
Jack set his plate down on his bedside table with a clang, the cup following shortly after.

"Yer Majesty—?"

Jack swung open the door and darted out of the room too fast for Gobber to peer beyond it.  
"I want you to inform the rest of the servants that when the Councilors come, they are to send for me, not Prince Hiccup, whatever their orders from him are. And send a message to the council that from now on I will be available to meet with them."

Gobber looked up at him, concern weighing down his eyes. "Now yer' majesty, don't go making any rash decisions. Hiccup can handle those toads until you feel up ta' it—"

"Hiccup," Jack cut in smoothly, voice attempting to emanate that regal authority he'd heard echoing from his father's all his life, "is not the Crown Prince of this Kingdom, those duties don't fall to him."  
Gobber didn't look convinced. "But yer' majesty—"

"Gobber," Jack interrupted yet again, " I was not asking."

Gobber opened his mouth like he was about to say something, but then thought better of it and let his mouth fall closed.

"Yes, yer' Majesty."

Then he turned swiftly on his heel and left Jack alone in the hallway outside his room, giving the Crown Prince no time to change his mind and call the manservant back.

* * *

A knock on Hiccup's door hours after he had already woken up, signalled that three years had passed by far sooner than he would have liked.

"Yer' Majesty, it's time to get up—"

"You can come in Gobber, that ship has already sailed." Hiccup called through the door, shaking his head and plucking at the green velvet doublet, fitted to show off his slender, but muscular features. A green choker with an emerald encased his throat, like the ribbon on a present. A gift from our kingdom to yours, complete with jeweled cuffs, buttons and sarcasm.

Behind him, the door clicked open and Gobber stepped through, his eyebrows rising as his eyes widened at the sight of Hiccup up and fully dressed.  
"Is it a special occasion or something?" The manservant teased lightly.

Hiccup shrugged. "Well, if the Crown Prince's coronation counts as a 'special occasion', then yeah."

"And you don't think it does?" Gobber inquired, tone still teasing, but with concern underlining his words.

"Oh sure. A bunch of people we've _never_ heard of and likely will _never_ see again, coming over from all around the world to eat our food, party, ogle, and plot." Hiccup drawled, rolling his eyes, "Should be the most fun I've ever had."

Gobber gave a little chuckle and moved forward, straightening the prince's hair and clothes with a small smile. "Try not to be so sarcastic when yer' friend's getting crowned, hmm? At least pretend to be interested."  
Hiccup averted his eyes. "Yes, my friend, who I've barely seen for the past thirteen years of my life, which is kind of miraculous when you think about it, seeing as we live in the same house."

"Same palace." Gobber corrected jokingly. "A house is a little bit smaller than this."  
Hiccup shot him a look. "Oh yeah, how could I forget?"

Gobber shrugged. "Easy mistake ta' make. To err is human."  
"But not princely." Hiccup muttered, remembering the King's words from long ago.

Gobber sent him an odd look. "Aren't princes human too?"

Hiccup glanced out the window, watching the boats sail into their harbor, shivers running down his spine when he spotted a huge, spiraling black dragon on a pristine white sail below. The Berseker Royal Family's crest.

"No." He murmured under his breath, _just_ too quiet for Gobber to hear. "We're pawns."

* * *

Jack stared out at the boats arriving below, clutching his hands tightly and worrying the fabric of the gloves beneath his fingers. Any minute now, he would have to give the command to open up the gates, to let these people in against everything he had been taught to do. To give them the chance to see what terrible powers lay hidden within his body.

No pressure.

He glanced over to where he had been practicing the coronation ceremony, his makeshift scepter and sphere frozen solid within seconds of his bare hands touching them.

One wrong move would be all it took.

He leaned his head against the windowpane, murmuring the words that had been his lifeline under his breath until Gobber came and knocked on his door.

"_Conceal it, don't feel it."_

* * *

"Jack Overland Frost the first, King of Arendelle."

Hiccup watched as Jack practically threw down the scepter and globe as he lunged for his gloves, a second of manic panic overcoming him before he gathered his regality once more and turned to face the crowd. The archbishop raised his eyebrows slightly, but said nothing, and no one in the crowd seemed to have noticed. Hiccup cast a slightly worried look at Jack out of the corner of his eyes, but was careful not to look to long, in case Jack noticed.

Jack had changed; well he was bound to wasn't he? What with time passing like it had and Hiccup _never seeing him_ and everything. His hair was still a startling white, blue eyes still stunning, pale skin almost sparkling in the sunlight straining through the stained glass windows into the church. And he was as fit as he'd even been, though his muscular chest was hidden slightly within his blue doublet.

But as Jack clutched his shaking fingers, Hiccup wondered if he might have been mistaken, if Jack really was sick, but he shook off those worries as Ja—King Jack of Arendelle, walked down the carpeted aisle away from him.

Like he always did.

But hey, at least Hiccup was used to it by now.

And at least he wouldn't miss him when he was gone.

* * *

"Presenting, King Jack Overland Frost the first of Arendelle."

Jack moved forward, swallowing down the fear that rose up within him at the sight of so many people and took his place in front of the throne, and resisting the urge to pluck nervously at his deep blue velvet doublet or wrap his purple cloak further around himself.

"And Prince Hiccup H. Haddock of Arendelle."

Jack turned his head slightly, to watch as Hiccup stumbled awkwardly up the carpeted stairs to stand next to him at Gobber's (shoving) _insistence_. He had grown, still slender boned, and a little bit awkward, but with a few more muscles now. His auburn hair still glimmered red in the light and the freckles that dusted his nose seemed to have multiplied, highlighting his stunning green eyes that were even more beautiful than when he last saw them; if that was possible.

Jack turned back towards the crowd, looking at him expectantly. He thought he could see Duke Alvin drooling over the roasted duck near the back of the room and stifled a laugh.

"Let the party begin."

A wave of relief and excitement swept through the room, chatter rising up and tearing apart the pall of silence that had hung over it previously. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Hiccup start to move away and words to pull him back fell out of his mouth before he could stop them.

"Hey."

Hiccup turned around to face him, eyebrow rising incredulously. "Hey? Hey, _me_?"

Jack resisted the urge to shuffle his feet nervously and nodded. "Yeah, you."  
Hiccup crossed his arms. "Wow, has hell really frozen over?"

Jack tried not to flinch away from the biting sarcasm in his words. "Hiccup, I'm sorry, I just…" He trailed off, not knowing what to say, not knowing what words could possibly bridge the chasm that had opened up between the two of them.

"I just wanted to tell you how handsome you looked."

Hiccup stiffened for a moment and Jack worried that he had said the wrong thing, before softening and sending Jack a weak smile, but a smile nonetheless. "Thanks, you don't look too terrible yourself."

Jack laughed, the first time he could remember doing so in ages. He moved down the carpeted stairs, standing next to Hiccup and reaching forward to sling an arm over his shoulders before catching sight of the white strip in Hiccup's hair and remembering. He pulled himself back hastily, Hiccup noticing the aborted movement and the smile falling from his lips.  
"Hiccup—" Jack opened his mouth to explain, to make excuses but—

"King Jack? Prince Hiccup?"

The two of them turned to face the interruption.

A trembling courtier stood before a boy Jack's height, and far more muscular, with a tattoo consisting of three blue lines encircling his left arm and covering his left eye. "May I present—"

Spiky, leather armor intricately decorated to distinguish it from the more casual one he probably wore on a daily basis. He seemed like the kind of guy that wore armor whenever he could, always hungry and ready for war making. A red braid of hair came out the back of his ornate horned helmet, Viking warrior prince then, probably from the northwest. His belt buckle, gold, with a black, intricately carved spiraling black dragon added the final piece to his identity. Berserker, and judging by how badly the courtier was bumbling, a Berserker of reasonably high standing—

"Dagur the Deranged, son of Oswald the Agreeable, and King of Berserker."

Well, maybe just a tad higher than that.

Jack swallowed down his surprise and nodded at Dagur.  
"Welcome to Arendelle, your highness. I'm sorry that we haven't sent our condolences, we were unaware of your father's passing."  
Dagur shrugged. "The old coward died right before we set sail, so no worries."

"Oh." Jack struggled to keep his face from screwing up in confusion and distaste, taken aback by Dagur's carefree tone and manner. It set off so many warning bells within him that his ears were full of a their insistent clanging. The dislike brewing in his chest only intensified when the Dagur grinned down at Hiccup with animalistic fervor, eyes devouring the slender prince as Jack hid his clenched hands beneath his purple cloak. He stepped in front of Hiccup slightly, blocking the younger boy from view and catching Dagur's dark green eyes with his blue ones.

"Well, still, we are sorry for your loss." Jack told him firmly. "Please, excuse us—"  
"I was wondering, Hiccup," Dagur cut in, trampling over Jack's already irritated nerves. "If I could have your first dance?"  
Jack turned back to face him, rebuttal more than half formed on his tongue, but Hiccup's quick reply stole the words from his lips.

"Yes, you may." He told him, gingerly reaching forward and allowing Dagur to take his hand in his own, while Jack's jaw hit the floor. Because if the same alarm bells weren't ringing loud and clear in Hiccup's mind, and everyone else's within a—a _thousand_ mile radius, hell truly was frozen over.

"Hiccup—" Jack reached forward, fingertips stretching for Hiccup's shoulder, only to be tugged back by a hand on his own shoulder. Jack's jaw tightened as he turned to see Councilor Mathews standing behind him with a satisfied grin on his smug little face. Jack shook his shoulder free from the smarmy councilor's grip. That utter—

"Your Majesty," His voice was poisonously smooth, snakelike, "The marquis of the Eastern isles wishes to speak with you."  
Jack peered behind him to where the stout, more than slightly balding marquis was beaming at him, thick hand on the back of his daughter, not-so-subtly pointing out her bachelorette status, and shoved down the sigh of frustration that rose within him. "Can it wait? I have to—"

"I'm afraid he insists."

Frigid anger froze over the common sense bleating so pitifully within Jack's mind, and the air between the two of them seemed to grow just that little bit colder, as Jack's fists clenched at his sides. Fuck the 'binding ties of social conventions', as his father had liked to say, Jack was decidedly not above punching this smarmy asshole's lights out. And he would have, if not for—

"Care for some wine, yer Majesty?"

Gobber practically threw the serving tray at Jack, cutting through the heavy atmosphere that had fallen between the King and his councilor with about as much subtlety as a woodcutter's axe. A few noble heads had turned at the slight commotion; their pure blue blood thrumming through their veins in thinly veiled interest and excitement as they watched the scene before them unfold. But thankfully, a quick glance around the ballroom revealed that of the many visiting families present, only three or four heads were currently turned in their direction.

It was probably best to keep it that way.

Jack snatched a glass off the tray, gulping it down with a little more gusto than was probably considered well mannered, but Jack couldn't care less. Anything to take his mind off the swirling storm within him, to give him back the slight control he had to reign it in. Once he had downed the glass, he grabbed another off the tray, this time with a little more finesse, inclining it slightly towards the councilor.

"Well, I'd better not keep him waiting." He ground out through his smile.  
The Councilor's smile was equally forced. "Better not."

Jack took another sip of his wine and (stormed) _strode_ towards the marquis and his bachelorette daughter, Gobber shifting worriedly on his peg leg and shivering slightly behind him.

* * *

"Something on your mind, Hic?"

Hiccup glanced up sharply from where he had been stealing glances at Jack, who was surrounded by an incredibly large flock of vaguely attractive, if you were into gold diggers he supposed, noble women. He raised his eyebrow slightly, managing to swallow the painful tug on his heartstrings.

"Hic?"  
Dagur shrugged, remarkably managing to keep up with the dance as he did so.

"Figured nicknames might be a worthwhile cause, since we're going to be quite…close for the remainder of our lives." He grinned, wickedly, sharp teeth gleaming sinisterly in the ambient lighting of the ballroom.

"Oh, right. How could I forget?" Hiccup repressed a shudder, nearly tripping over his own feet as they struggled to keep up with the dance, and crashing right into Dagur. Luckily, he caught himself at the last moment, sparing him the discomfort of being pressed to the Viking Warrior King's chest for a second longer than he had to.

"You know I was quite surprised by your offer. Well, hell, everyone was, including my _coward _of a father." He spit out the words like they were poison, an ugly, twisted gnarl of emotions overcoming his features before he smoothed them back under his mask. But a glint of something not quite right, something almost mad, remained in his eyes. "I mean, the sole surviving member of the Berk Royal Family, offering his hand in marriage to the King of a kingdom that crushed his beneath their heel?" He grinned again, eyes alight with that mad gleam, as he savored the words falling off his tongue, as if he was recalling the death, dragon fire and devastation his kingdom had brought upon Hiccup's people that day.

He hadn't been there of course, both of them were too young to have been in Berk when it fell, regardless of what side they were on. But Hiccup had read about it, the destruction that Dagur's grandfather had wrought upon them, even with the bumbling, not-warrior, Oswald the Agreeable at his side. And on rare nights, he even screamed himself out of dreams of searing heat, suffocating ash, and the deafening screams of woman and children as blood flowed and bones broke around him. If he could imagine the devastation that day, he had no doubt that Dagur could too.

But where Hiccup cradled the knowledge like an open wound, trying desperately to staunch the blood flow, Dagur reveled in the blood that stained his hands, a final gift from his grandfather. Blood thirst and madness had skipped a generation it seemed, but had not been obliterated like they hoped it had when Oswald succeeded his father.

"Got a thing for danger?" Dagur breathed in his ear as they took another turn on the dance floor, dragging Hiccup's attention back to the conversation at hand. Dagur's grip on Hiccup's arm flexed slightly and Hiccup had to swallow a wince.  
"Oh yeah. Pain, love it." Hiccup bit back, green eyes narrowing slightly.

Dagur grip on his arms tightened even more, and this time Hiccup couldn't swallow down his wince. "I wouldn't recommend talking back to me. My father used to do that a lot." He gave another smile, but it looked more like he was baring his teeth to Hiccup. "And he ended up having an unfortunate run-in with my axe."

Hiccup swallowed heavily while Dagur let out a series of bizarre chuckles under his breath as the dance around them came to a close, the couples around them separating and clapping appreciatively for the nice music. Dagur, however, kept his grip on Hiccup's waist, strong and unyielding, clutching tighter when Hiccup attempted to subtly disentangle himself.

"Won't you give your fiancé the pleasure of a second dance?" He said, his silky smooth tone just barely managing to conceal the threat that lingered beneath it.

Hiccup ground his teeth together, trying to hide the hopelessness clawing at his heart. He'd been hoping that maybe, just maybe, Dagur wasn't as bad as everyone had made him out to be. That he wasn't throwing away his home and freedom and Jack to be chained forever to a monster. That the stories that floated back of his cruelty, his malevolence, his insanity, were just old wives tales. But now he could see—

"And quit looking at that white-haired freak like some damsel in distress, you're my fiancé, not his, got it?"

—That they were all complete and utter understatements.

* * *

"Y-y-your highness?"

Jack turned sharply from where he was glowering at Dagur over his wineglass (his third of the night) to see the bumbling courtier that had introduced them earlier.  
"Yes?" He inquired. Regally. Not at all icily, ice was bad.

_Conceal it. Don't feel it.  
_

He took a deep breath.

The courtier jumped a little, feet quavering in his boots and Jack felt a stab of pity for the poor guy. "I was just c-coming to t-thank-you for your hospitality this evening."

Jack forced a smile to his lips. "Please, don't think of it, it was our pleasure to do so. And thank-you for attending the coronation ceremony." He took another sip of his wine, god he was getting twitchy. Just a few more hours, a few more hours and he could close the gates, and everything could go back to normal. "I'm afraid I didn't catch your name?"

The courtier near fell over with his eagerness. "It's uh, um, Fishlegs, your highness."  
Jack shot him another forced, half-smile, and took another gulp of wine.

"I was wondering, y-your highness," Fishlegs began, looking down at the schedule in his hand, and Jack had to subdue an eye roll, "when you wanted to go over the wedding arrangements—"

Jack nearly spat out his wine. "I'm sorry, _what_?"

Fishlegs glanced up, slight confusion seeping onto his face. "The uh, wedding arrangements, your highness? For Prince Hiccup and King Dagur's wedding?"

Jack stared at him in incredulity as Fishlegs returned his gaze to his schedule and continued his ramble.

"I was wondering what venue you wanted to have it in, and whether you wanted it to be here or in our Kingdom. I mean you've just hosted a coronation so I wasn't sure you wanted to host a wedding right after that. B-but then I wasn't sure if you wanted to have the wedding here as the Prince's, you know, formal last goodbye to this kingdom before married life. A-and if you could tell me whether you think we should have the symbol of Berk combined with the Berserker, or whether you think we should have the symbol of Arendelle combined with the Berserker on the invitations? I-I mean…uh…d-do you consider this marriage a joining of sorts between your two kingdoms, o-or an act of goodwill? Also, King Dagur has expressed that he pictures the color scheme for the ceremony as red, black, and white, does that fit your impression of the day? And as for the flowers—"

"Whoa, whoa, wait a second." Jack cried, holding his hand up and causing Fishlegs to snap his mouth shut. "Who said anything about Hi—Prince Hiccup, getting married to that—King Dagur?"

He gestured a little wildly towards the pair, the alcohol loosening his movements. "They're just dancing!" _Ipmil_, he should have read that cultural briefing packet that Gobber left at his door last week.

Fishlegs now emitted waves of confusion, tinged with the tiniest bit of panic.  
"You did, your highness. Or at least," he amended at the incredulous look Jack sent him, "Your kingdom did. Three years ago, in return for our agreement regarding the trade…agreement?"

Jack's own face screwed up in confusion. "I don't know what you're talking abo—"

—"_Councilor Mathews came up to the castle today, flapping around like some overgrown chicken and demanding ta' see you—Prince Hiccup thought it best if you weren't bothered—Hiccup went down ta' greet him—next thing I know he's collapsed in the hall next to his door, cryin' like a babe."_

Oh.

He glanced over at where the two were dancing, Dagur somehow having managed to drag Hiccup into another round. He was smirking, a proprietary hand curled around Hiccup's waist, showing Hiccup off with a series of turns and spins. Like a shiny new toy that he hadn't got the chance to break yet. And the wicked grin, the mad gleam in his eye, announced proudly that he couldn't wait to sink his teeth into Hiccup. The mere thought, and the images that came flooding into his mind with it, made Jack's skin crawl.

He turned back to Fishlegs, clutching the glass in his hand so hard he thought it might break. "Whatever plans you've made, get rid of them. Burn them for all I care."

"B-but y-your m-majesty—" Fishlegs squawked, eyes growing incredibly wide. "The trade agreement—"  
"And while you're at it, tear up that too." Jack informed him, placing his wine glass on the next silver tray that passed him by. " He gave the signal to close the gates to the guards standing around the ballroom, raising his voice to be heard above the din. "The party is over."

"Your majesty!" Fishlegs called out, but Jack barely heard him, red seeping into his tunnel vision as his purple cloak swept out behind him. He made his way through the startled crowd of people towards the _stupid_ _self-sacrificing_ **idiot** and the deranged one. The two had paused with the other dancers once the murmurs of Jack's announcement had rippled towards them.

"Jack?" Hiccup asked, confusion now seeping into his face. "What's going on—"  
"King Dagur, the party is over." Jack spoke coldly, but it was no match for the ice that was spreading along his palms underneath his gloves.  
"Wha—Jack—"

And despite that his hand was reaching, grasping Hiccup's shoulder and tugging him away from those proprietary talons. "Thank-you for coming, see you next time."

But Dagur was reaching forward too, hands tugging Hiccup back. "I thought perhaps my _fiancé_ and I could spend a little more time…getting to know each other?"

He spoke loud enough that the growing crowd of nobles around them gave a slight titter. Hiccup stiffened, his face flushing bright red at the implications, while Dagur leered hungrily, and Jack felt ice began to curl outwards into his stomach, the cold burn searing his chest as more unwanted images flooded into his mind.

"Your _engagement_," Jack spat the word out as though it tasted like something that had crawled into his mouth and died, "is over. Leave Arendelle at once."

Something shifted in Dagur's face, turning his expression from mildly threatening to lethal in a manner of seconds. Hiccup caught the expression, panic clawing at his heart and constricting his lungs, and tried to salvage the situation. Preferably before Arendelle ended up a pile of ash, blood and searing heat; like Berk had.

"I'm sorry, your highness, it seems our King has been at the…uh…_wine _again." He hid his wince at his terrible cover and maneuvered himself out of Dagur's grip and over to where Jack stood, his hands raised up in apology. "I'll just…get him to bed, he needs his rest, it's been a _long_ day—you understand—and then we can spend more time…together, uh, tomorrow. So um, uh, please excuse us—"

"Oh no, you're not seeing him again—" Jack started.  
"Jack, _not helping_," Hiccup ground out, "And isn't that kinda, oh I don't know, _my_ decision?"  
"You can't marry someone you just met!" Jack nearly exploded, cold air rushing out of him with the movement of his arms.

Hiccup ran a hand over his face, suppressing a shiver at the sudden chill. "Jack, please, let's just go and—"  
"Oh hoh oh, I don't think so, _Hic_." Dagur snarled, moving forward and drawing Hiccup back into his grasp, fingers digging in painfully into his arms.  
He turned his lethal gaze towards Jack. "Your kingdom promised this little prince's hand in marriage for our signature on your little trade agreement, three years ago."

"Your highness—" Hiccup began but cut himself with a short gasp of pain as Dagur released one hand to tangle it painfully in his hair and tug his head backwards. The action drew a similar gasp from the crowd around them, the Arendelle royal guard encircling the three of them from one side, while the Berserker royal guard encircled them from the other.

Jack's jaw clenched, cold pumping through his body with each beat of his heart, as he felt the desire to tear Dagur apart grow exponentially within him. While Hiccup fought back the urge to close his eyes and pretend that more than a hundred pairs of eyes weren't focused solely on him.

Dagur, however, continued speaking as though he didn't have the eyes of everyone in the room. "You've enjoyed the benefits of our little arrangement for three years, and now that I'm finally about to receive _my_ reward, you're getting cold feet?" He let out another series of bizarre chuckles before the smile and laughter dropped away from his features, that lethal, _mad_ look replacing them. "Oh no."

He brought his other hand up to cup Hiccup's face, brushing his thumb across Hiccup's lips. When he spoke it was a growl so animalistic that it could have devoured the last scraps of humanity left within him by sound alone.  
"I'm taking what's mine."

"Let go of him, now." Jack hissed, livid, stepping forward slightly.  
Dagur laughed. "Or what? What are you going to do to me? Or better yet, what are you going to do without me? Your biggest trading partner?"  
"Jack." Hiccup breathed, but whether in warning or as a plea was something not even he knew.

"Sleep better at night, for starters." Jack replied, moving forward another step until he was staring right into Dagur's eyes, a few inches from Hiccup's lithe body.

"Now **Get**. The _Hell_. **Out**. Of _My_. **Kingdom**." Jack snarled.

Dagur smirked in return and the two held each other's gaze while the ballroom held its breath, waiting for the moment when one of them would obliterate the pall of silence that had fallen over them all.

But neither of them did.

The silence was usurped from its regency by the loud clanging clash of several silver serving trays smashing into the ground, as well as the shattering of several crystal glasses. The cacophonous noise dragged Dagur's attention away from their standoff, loosening his grip on Hiccup and allowing Jack to reach forward and rip Hiccup away from his grasp.

Before Dagur could lunge forward and grab Hiccup once again, Jack grasped Hiccup's arm and pulled him through the crowd surrounding them to the other side.

"Close the gates and escort our guests out." He called to the guards, still pulling Hiccup along behind him.  
"Jack, you can't—"  
"The hell I can't. I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm the king now—"  
"Kinda hard to miss, but you don't understand—"  
"And one of the many perks of being King is what I say goes, so c'mon."  
"Pretty sure that's tyranny, not monarchy."  
"Shut up."

They were almost to the door, just a few more steps and—

A hand reached out, missing his shoulder entirely, but managing to catch the bottom of his glove, pulling it free from his hands.

It was as though his armor and his confidence had been striped from him, leaving him weak and naked in the middle of a battlefield. He turned around, instinctually reaching for the glove, only to see it in Dagur's hand.

"Give me back my glove!" Jack demanded, a childish fear and petulance seeping into his tone.  
"Give me back my fiancé." Dagur returned evenly, smug grin spread across his face.  
"If everybody could please just calm down—" Councilor Mathews swooped in, all his smugness wiped clean from his face, wringing his hands.

"For the last time, he's **not** your _fiancé_." Jack snapped back, tightening his grip on Hiccup while hiding his bare hand, now clenched into a fist, beneath his purple cloak.  
"Ok," Hiccup began, starting to maneuver himself between Dagur and Jack, "clearly, everyone has had _way_ too much to drink." He laid a hand gingerly on Jack's shoulder. "Let's just all go to bed and settle this like _adults_ in the morning."

"Great idea." Dagur agreed, false calm mingling with a charlatan of cheerfulness on his face, before they both evaporated, leaving only the lethal madness and a smug smirk as he extended his hand towards Hiccup. "Shall we?"

Councilor Mathews looked positively scandalized. "Your Majesty—"

Jack felt the searing icy burn light up his chest again and he tugged a hopeless Hiccup behind him once more, seething with rage. "_Get out of my Kingdom_, **now**!"

"Not without what's mine!" Dagur insisted, just as petulant and childish as Jack had been before, but with a far darker pull to his words. And he lunged forward, reaching for Hiccup once more, and Jack couldn't allow his greedy, treacherous talons to snare him again—he wouldn't—

"_Don't _**touch**_ him_!"

It was primitive, a war cry, ripped from his throat into the open air as he brought his hand out from beneath his cloak in a vicious swipe, ice flying from his fingertips to force Dagur back. Spreading across the wood floor in front of them in an arc, sharp pointed icicles forced the Berserker King, and everyone else around them, back.

Jack stared at the barrier of ice between the two, breathing heavily and clutching his hand defensively to his chest. The whole banquet hall stared, their jaws hitting the ground in shock as they stared at the King of Arendelle—or rather, the _monster_ of Arendelle, Jack thought bitterly. The reason behind the years of isolation and secrecy was finally slotting itself into place within their minds as they beheld him in all his freakish glory.

"Sorcery." Councilor Mathews hissed, staring at Jack and Hiccup warily, gasps fleeing the mouths of nobles in the crowd behind him at the word.

"He attacked me!" Dagur exploded, eyes blazing. "Your—your—_snowman_ of a King has officially declared war on the Berserkers!"

"Jack." Hiccup breathed in his ear, and Jack was sure his beautiful green eyes were wide with shock. But he found that he couldn't turn his head to see if disgust and fear marred that freckled face as well.

He had to get out of here, had to get away, but he couldn't leave Hiccup—

He reached behind him, fumbling for the doorknob and twisting it viciously once he got a grip on it. He kicked open the door with his foot, keeping a firm grip on Hiccup with his gloved hand and tearing into the hallway beyond, tugging Hiccup along behind him.

"Jack—Jack wait! We can't just—"

He flung open the door to the courtyard, stumbling into the open and freezing.

Before them was quite possible the entire fucking Kingdom, crammed into their courtyard. Jack shrank back slightly as several calls of "Your Highness!" tore at his rapidly deteriorating nerves.

But when the sound of rapidly approaching footsteps reached his ears, he darted through the crowd, clutching his hand even tighter to his chest and digging his nails into Hiccup's arm to keep him there as he made his way past them all. As he headed towards…towards…fuck, he had no clue. As long as it was as far away from…from everything as his legs could carry him, he couldn't care less where it was.

"Jack, _please_, wait—" Hiccup pleaded, but he was cut off as Jack jumped onto the lake below, the water beneath his feet turning to ice as soon as he neared it. "Oh, _Thor_—"

"Stop right there!" Dagur roared from behind them, but Jack didn't stop, couldn't stop for even a second, because if he did…he might turn back.

And he couldn't turn back, not now, not ever.

The wind whipped around them, howling across the ice spreading out across the lake beneath his feet, working itself into a storm as it encircled them. With the adrenaline pounding through his veins with every pulse of his heart, it took Jack far longer than it should have considering Hiccup's (scream) yelp—"oh, _**Odin**_!"—to realize that the wind had lifted them into the air, and was carrying them forward, far away from everything and everyone below.

Feeling a grin break across his face, Jack pushed forward, enjoying the sensation of the glacial wind as it wrapped around the two of them in an intoxicating rush of air. Hiccup clutched tighter to him and Jack tried to keep the smirk tugging at the corners of his lips from taking over them. Glancing behind him, he saw that Arendelle was nothing more than a bunch a tiny, children's toy sized, buildings, and the people no more than specks of dust. The kind you might find in the lens of a telescope, or eyeglass.

This time, he couldn't stop the genuine smile that spread across his face.

He was finally free.

* * *

Far below and behind the two of them, in the heart of the palace, the King of the Berserker's sat on the absent King's throne; smirking down at the various councilors and guards beneath him.

"You people are just too easy!" He twirled his dagger around in his fingertips. "Flash a little steel your way and you cower like pathetic little children." He snorted. "A toddler could conquer your pitiful little Kingdom. Well," He amended, tossing his legs over the arm of the throne and grinning down at them, "a toddler with an armada of fifty-thousand Berserker soldiers."

"W-what do you want, your Highness?" Councilor Mathews stuttered out, his hands shaking on the cold marble floor.

"Well," Dagur murmured, "seeing as your King was so rude to me, I want the complete and utter destruction of this Kingdom and every man, woman and child in it. But,"

He swung his legs back from over the arm of the chair and stood up, mouth still twisted into a small smirk, "I also want my fiancé back. And seeing as he _probably_ won't marry me if I destroy his entire Kingdom _again_, I'm willing to allow you all to live."

"Oh, thank-you, your grace—" Councilor Mathews began, moving towards him.

But Dagur moved to fast for anyone to see, one moment by the window and the next at Councilor Mathews' back. His dagger pressed threateningly to his neck as he breathed hotly down the back of it.

"So long as my fiancé is returned to me, and agrees to marry me, once and for all; no backsies!" Dagur laughed manically again, removing his dagger from Councilor Mathews neck and stepping backwards, into the shadows once more.

Councilor Mathews let out a shaking breath and thanked the Gods for his life.

And then prayed, oh he prayed like hell.

Because if they were going to stand any chance of bearing through Dagur and his Berserkers, they were going to need all the help they could get.


End file.
